I'll lock you in my memory cage
by PotterHeadAndVeryVeryProud
Summary: Follow on story from 'Twisted around his little finger.' As Bliss Murphy is relieved from a long stay at St Mungo's Hospital, she is faced with the true horror that the boy she thought was her friend turned out to be the mad man behind the mysterious Petrifications gripping Hogwarts in a world of suspicion. Bliss is the only one who know's the truth. She will bring justice.


**Authors note: Just a quick note to say that you will probably want to read my other Fanfiction 'Twisted around his little finger' first, the story before/when this is set. I will be editing some details of 'Twisted around his little finger': It will no longer be set at Christmas time, and won't have such cringey details! Enjoy, Potterheads:)**

**Tom Riddle Jr P.O.V**

_I smell blood. Oh, yessss. Blood, blood. Blood from a Mudblood!_

I just about choke on my drink, the other tipping precariously in my hand until it rains down in shatters across the varnished floorboards. I dart a look around the crammed hall, relief flooding through me. There could be no better time, could there? I grin to myself smugly. With everyone in here, there would only be one student moping around the deserted hallways, desperately miserable with only a battered book for company. You'd think she'd at least join in with the celebration of the end of the bloody year, but no. Silly girl. However, under the present circumstances, I can almost find myself acquainting myself with her for her stupidity.

I barge through the crowds to the door and halt, guilt sticking in my throat like glass as a flash of black hair catches in my mind's eye. Bliss. I seek her out across the room, laughing and twirling around with a gaggle of her over-excitable friends. Honestly, they're like puppies. I clench my fists and growl, completely torn down the middle. I grind my teeth together angrily, wavering slightly and then place a step outside the doorway, into the corridor with a shrug. She wouldn't miss me. Besides, I shall only be 5 minutes, 10 minutes at the most, depending how long it takes to track that snivelling idiot down…

I hiss out an order, the presence of the serpent overwhelming me as I clamber up the staircase, breathing heavily. The shadow of the snake towers over me as I murmur to it, the sounds of its rippling muscles contracting against the stone oddly comforting. As the sobbing reaches my ears, the beasts hunger aches inside of me, its excitement obvious as the sound of its tongue whips through the air, tasting. With a dry laugh, I inch open the door, sliding into the shadows with a smirk. The Parseltongue comes to me as a second nature now, after many months. _Kill her. Kill the Mudblood._

It coils around the base of the sink, twining and wrapping into and odd array of notes, it's large head pointed directly towards the creaking toilet door. The voice that echoed from inside of it sounded quite angry. "Who is that? Who's there?"

When there was no reply, Myrtle threw open the door, looking murderous. As her eyes made contact with the deadly green of the snakes, her mouth formed a perfect 'o' of horror and shock as she crumpled to the floor, white as… Well, white as a ghost. Considering she's now very obviously dead, that is quite normal.

A clatter outside of the door makes me start, my heart leaping into my mouth, dry with horror. The serpents slithers back into the network of piping as I press my palm against the cool white of the tiles, my breath coming out in short gasps. I wait ten minutes at least before I deem it safe to leave the confines of my hiding place. With a grimace, I turn the handle.

My eyes widen in horror as I fall to my knees, my hands knotted angrily into my hair as I gape at the fallen figure. One clog on and one barely unfastened, her legs are knotted underneath her in a painful twist, her hair splayed out across the floor. Blood stains the bone chilling stone red from the her teeth clamped down on her bottom lip; the crusted red mountain over her cheek flooded from a broken nose. But worst of all is her eyes. Distrust and pain shadows them like a mask, disappointment and hurt glittereing in the depth of blue.


End file.
